


Return

by RedandLizzie



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lizzington - Freeform, Red/Lizzie, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedandLizzie/pseuds/RedandLizzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red returns.  Post Anslo Garrick, S1E10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Although, I’m sure Tom will still be around when Red returns, there are too many possibilities for Liz and Red if he’s out of the picture, so just like that, he’s gone. The wonderful world of fan fiction.
> 
> Comments help me grow as a writer and are appreciated, so thank you to those who take the time.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own The Blacklist or any of these wonderful characters. The brilliant Jon Bokenkamp and NBC do. This is a transformative work and no money is being made from this story.

When Red returned it was unceremonious.  He simply appeared at the Post Office late one Friday afternoon as if he hadn’t been gone for four months.  He offered no explanation of his whereabouts, and ignored Cooper’s questions. Red simply began discussing the next target on The Blacklist with the surety and calmness he always exhibited.

Liz couldn’t help but stare at him as he spoke.  Her heart beat rapidly, pounding against her ribcage, and she gripped the edge of a table to keep herself steady.  She had missed him.  She had missed him a great deal for each of the past one hundred and twenty-four days.  

When Red finished giving the team the basics, he turned to Cooper and said, “I’ll give the details to Agent Keen.”  And, without so much as a glance in her direction, Red began walking away.  

A few moments later, Cooper spoke to her in a clipped tone, “What are you waiting for Keen? Go.”

As Liz found her feet and began to move she noticed Aram watching her.   When she passed him he gave her a small smile and spoke softly, “I’m glad he’s back too, Liz.”  She was caught off guard by the tech’s statement and wondered what expression her face had held over the last few minutes.  She couldn’t imagine that her features bared anything other than surprise.

When she reached the elevator, she expected Red to be waiting but he was gone.  She huffed, jabbing at the buttons, wondering what he was up to.  As she began the descent down the fire escape, a dark gray Mercedes pulled up and parked.  When Dembe exited the driver’s seat he met her eyes, and as she approached, he gave her a nod and opened the back passenger door.  She couldn’t remember Dembe acknowledging her in that way before, but of course, Anslo Garrick had changed everything.  Dembe had witnessed her attempt to find Red and was aware she had broken FBI protocol in her search.  

As she climbed into the car, Red came into view.  He wore his sunglasses and from what she could see, his face appeared serene.  She crossed her legs and joined her hands together around one knee, trying to squelch the near desperation she felt to reach out and touch him in order to make sure he was real.  When he met her eyes, he gave her a quick small closed mouth smile.  “Hello, Lizzie.”

She grinned in turn, but a full bright smile quickly replaced the slight upturn of her lips.  “Hello, Red.”

As Dembe put the car into gear, they watched each other for a number of seconds and Liz felt her smile fade. She had somewhat forgotten what it felt like to be the focus of his intense gaze.

When he finally spoke, his tone was a bit short, “Aren’t you going to ask me about number 81, Agent Keen?”

She was confused by his use of her professional name and slightly shook her head in response.  It appeared Red was taking a step back from her, but if that were true, why hadn’t he just meet with her at the black site rather than walking off knowing she would follow.  At the moment, Liz couldn’t have cared less about number 81 and wasn’t going to pretend to.  “Actually, no. I think 81 can wait.  Why don’t we have dinner instead?”

Dembe spoke, “Change in plans, sir?”  

Dembe’s voice had startled her and her eyes went to his profile.  She had always known Dembe listened to their conversations but he had never commented before.  

She saw Red move out of her peripheral vision, placing his left forearm on the armrest of the door, before he asked, “And what about your husband, Agent Keen?  Isn’t he expecting you for dinner?”

Liz replied, her head turning back to Red,

“No.  Tom and I… I assumed you already knew.”

She could tell by the way Red’s chin slightly dipped that he indeed knew about her separation, but for some reason he wanted her to say the words. He appeared to be lost in concentration, considering.  She looked at Dembe again and saw the bodyguard watching Red in the rearview mirror.  

A few moments later, Red spoke, “Dembe, phone Frances at CityZen and book the usual table in the back.  Tell him we will arrive through the kitchen and request for Chef Ziebold to create whatever his heart desires. Oh, and contact Grey.  Tell  him to move my things to the Mandarin Oriental - might as  well keep things close.”

He turned to Liz then and she saw a slight twitch in his mouth before he spoke to her, “You will need a dress. What time shall I pick you up?”

Upon reflection, Liz realized she should have known better than to suggest dinner without offering a clarifier.  She had no idea how he would react to her next question but she pressed on despite her anxiety, “I was thinking something simple.  How about eating in?”  

As his eyes moved back and forth between each of hers, Liz felt unease.  He was about to say something she knew she wouldn’t like.  “That’s crossing a line, Lizzie.  A line that you drew a number of months ago.”

She responded quickly her voice hurried, “Yes, and I failed to appreciate the wisdom of the man who told me there was a problem with drawing lines in the sand.  With a breath, they’re gone.”  Liz paused, looking out Red’s window before continuing, “And I’ve had to expel several deep breaths since that night.”  

Liz watched the buildings swish by for a few seconds before looking at him again.  She was hurt, and felt the results of the pain as it physically manifested itself at the corner of her eyes.  She wanted to spend time with him so she could explain how she tried desperately to find where Anslo was keeping him. She wanted to tell him why her insecurities made her jump to the conclusion that he might be her father.  And, she wanted to discuss her difficult breakup with Tom.  But, it seemed, he didn’t want part of that so she acquiesced. “I understand, though, that you don’t want… it’s fine.”  She gave him a small smile before continuing with a sincere, “I’m glad you’re back.”  Then she decided to use his words again, “There’s just no fun in it without you.”  She bent and took the small notebook she kept in her purse. “I’m ready to discuss 81.  What do we need to know?”

When his hand reached for hers, she dropped the notebook and clasped his hand hard in return.  She was trying her best not to cry but it was becoming more difficult as the minutes beat on.  Her emotions were heightened from the tremendous relief she felt the moment he walked into the war room.  The inexplicable comfort she felt with him near was soothing, but the absolute aloneness she had felt over the last few months still pulled at her heart.  

“Dembe has prepared a file on 81 with everything you need to know.  I have an appointment in the next few minutes so Dembe will take you home after he drops me at the Fairmont.”  He gave her hand short squeezes until Liz met his eyes again. And with his next breath, his voice changed, sounding like liquid sunshine to her ears, “I’ll be at your apartment around 8:30.  I’ll bring dinner.” 

As an unchecked tear slid down her face, he wiped it away with his free hand.  “It’s okay, Lizzie.  Everything will be okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie prepares for dinner with Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very good at describing decor, so I've included a picture of Liz's apartment at the end of the chapter. She lives on the fifth floor and her home consists of two main rooms with a full bath off the bedroom and half bath and laundry room at the entry. She’s a government employee so she can’t afford a large space. I’ve always thought the brownstone that she and Tom share must be an extreme stretch for their finances, so my frugal mind needed for her apartment to make sense.
> 
> Also, Hudson the dog, stayed with Tom. Liz didn’t mind though as he was Tom's pet before they were married.
> 
> Thank you so much for the comments!

The moment Dembe pulled into an empty parking spot in front of Liz's apartment building, he glanced at her over his shoulder and spoke, "I shall follow you up.  I need to sweep your apartment before Raymond arrives."

Liz knew she shouldn't have been surprised but she was.  She answered him with arched brows.  "Mr. Kaplan had a team check right after I moved in."

"Was that not several weeks ago?"

Liz felt defeated.  "Yes, almost two months ago.  You're right.  Please, do check."

Dembe gave her a short nod before they climbed out of the car together.  After pulling a silver toned metal briefcase from the trunk, he joined her at the building's entrance.  She used her key card to open the door then checked her empty mailbox before turning to Dembe.  "One of the main reasons I chose this building was because of the security.  That was probably naive of me, wasn't it?"

When he didn't respond and his expression remained blank, she figured that was answer enough.

After entering the elevator and inputting  the security code for her floor, Liz stepped back and leaned against the rail.  As she studied Dembe's profile, she wondered about his relationship with Red.  There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but knew there was no possibility of Dembe answering.  She had witnessed his devotion to Red while watching the video of Garrick's attack.  Her gaze then fell to the floor as she thought back to the week following Red's departure.  Aram had approached her in the parking lot one evening and handed her a memory card.  She remembered those soft brown searching hers and his words, "Liz, you need to watch this footage of Mr. Reddington. He may not care for many people, but those he does care for..."    

After Tom had gone to bed that night, Liz had placed the card in her computer and studied the video.  She watched as Red worked tirelessly in attempt to save Ressler; she was pained at witnessing Luli's death, and she had begun to cry the moment Red placed his hands on the blood streaked glass and slid to his knees while speaking with Dembe.  The scenes were horrifying, emotional, and said so much about the man she had called a monster.   Liz felt a tremendous amount of guilt for that statement and for how she had handled other interactions with him.  After several minutes, she had resumed the video and watched Red as she was brought into the room.  She had stroked her scar as the scene played out on her computer monitor, scarcely breathing.  She had missed so many of the subtle expressions on his face that day, but replaying the seconds over and over again that night, she saw it all.  He hadn't even take time to think, he simply acted.  To save her.  She cried again as she watched him smile down at her from inside the glass cell, and the tears came in a rush when she saw the brief moment of fear cross his features before the door opened.

Dembe'e voice broke her reverie.  "Agent Keen?"  Liz looked up, the elevator was open, and Dembe had moved to the hall.  She followed him as he walked directly to the door of her apartment.

"Should it bother me that you know which apartment is mine?"

"I think it should bother you more, if I did not."

She couldn't suppress her smile and looked into his eyes before he quickly turned his head.  As she unlocked the deadbolt, Dembe walked past her, and with a practiced ease he opened the case pulling out a multifunctional detector and began waving the device over the walls, floors, windows, and furniture.  It took him less than fifteen minutes to sweep her apartment and when he was finished, he simply said, "All is good."

After placing the wand in the case, he removed a folder and handed it to her.  She briefly looked at the contents - a dossier on 81, and said, "Thank you."

He nodded then walked to the door.  As he began to turn the knob, he stopped and said, "Have a pleasant dinner, Agent Keen. "

Liz remained in the same spot for a number of seconds as the realization that Red was coming to her home truly sunk in.  She had never really been alone with him before without others close by to serve as a buffer.  The thought of eating a meal with him - something that normal people did, something that couples did - put her on edge.

After a long hot shower, Liz found herself standing in the middle of her closet debating what to wear.  She was tired from the long work week and wanted to dress comfortably, but the thought of Red arriving wearing his typical ware made her second guess herself.  She decided to go with her gut, and selected a pair of black yoga pants and matching long-sleeve tee.  It was simple, but she had always thought she looked attractive in the clothing.  She forego shoes but pulled on a pair of short black socks to ward off the chill of the hard flooring.

Liz then set the bar of her eat-in kitchen with plates, silverware, glasses, and napkins.  She adored her new apartment but became self-conscious of the size and decor.  She had willingly given Tom the contents of the house as she didn't want any unnecessary reminders surrounding her, but the replacements she had purchased weren't as nice as the previous things she owned and certainly weren’t up to the standard to which Reddington preferred.  

She  then rummaged through her closet until she found her old iPod and docking station.  As she began to select her playlist, she reminded herself they were having dinner, this was not a date; but as she contemplated that thought, she realized she wished it were and wondered when her feelings for Red had reached this point.  She had always found him attractive and his presence was stimulating, but she came to the conclusion she was swayed the day of Anslo's attack - when she truly believed for the first time that his utter devotion to her was real and that he wasn't simply putting on a pretense in order to manipulate her feelings and actions.  As she thumbed through the device, she stuck with artists she thought Red would like:  Anita Marie, John Coltrane, Etta James, and Kurt Elling.  She wasn’t even sure he liked jazz but thought those selections would appeal to him the most out of the songs on her player.

When she was done preparing, she glanced at the clock and with an hour and half to wait, she read through the file on 81.  She then went to her bedroom and retrieved the book that had been sitting untouched on her nightstand for days.  As she sat on the sofa attempting to read, the nerves she felt before began to pluck at her consciousness.  She finally gave up and sat the book down on her coffee table and listened to the soft music.  She awoke later to the doorbell, and as she walked to the door, she felt herself smiling in anticipation of seeing him again.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Liz have dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments.

As Liz placed her hand on the doorknob, she checked the peephole and saw Red looking toward the floor holding a paper bag. She didn't even question how he had entered the building without buzzing her. His fedora from earlier was in place, but the chestnut colored leather jacket was something she had never seen before. She opened the door and found herself looking up into his eyes. Without her shoes, he seemed larger, his shoulders more broad. He gave her a quick smirk before his face fell into its usual placidity. She felt frozen, and wondered if this was a dream; if she would wake in the morning only to discover that Red had never returned - that she was alone with no one to trust.

“May I come in?”

She nodded and stepped aside. “Of course.”

After Red entered her apartment, she closed and locked the door. She took a deep silent breath before turning around; the butterflies in her stomach were in full flight. She watched as he sat the bag on the counter then remembered her manners. “May I take your hat and coat?”

He handed her the fedora then genteelly shrugged out of the leather. For what had to be the hundredth time, she wondered if he had learned to move that way or if it was natural for him. She took both items to her bedroom and placed them on the bed. Before turning to return to the kitchen, she ran her fingers down the buttery soft leather. The jacket was very expensive and she appreciated the cut and style.

As she entered the main room she saw Red standing at the windows. His hands were in his pockets and he appeared to be looking at the street below. “I'm quite fond of jazz, but must admit, I'm surprised you are.”

She smiled and began to remove the food containers from the bag. The music she had selected had been a good choice. “Sam used to play these great old records before going to bed and I loved listening to them. The music was soothing and rocked me to sleep.”

He didn't respond and she watched as his eyes moved around her apartment, taking in hissurroundings. He merely glanced at the file on 81 that sat on her coffee table, but paused to study the cover of the book that lay beside it. She was certain he was going to pick it up, but then his eyes began searching again, until they came to rest on the single framed photo she had on display.

“I was nine in that photo. It’s my favorite of the two of us. That was such a good day. It was the last day of school and I got out early so Sam took off work and we went fishing. We didn’t actually fish though; I don’t care for that. We just sat on the dock, talking and laughing with unbaited hooks hanging from our poles. We then went home and ate hot dogs and marshmallows cooked over an open fire.”

When she was done with the brief story she realized it was the first time she had remembered her father since his death without feeling a nearly unbearable sadness. She then noticed Red standing a few feet in front of her, watching.  She took a small step toward him then stopped herself. His proximity put her nerves on point. There was something in his eyes that was discomforting. She tried to refocus, telling herself, "Be calm, Liz, be calm.” Then she asked him, “Would you like wine? I have Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. And, I might have Moscato." She opened her fridge and pulled out the a bottle of Chardonnay and sat it on the bar.

As he moved closer, he closed the refrigerator door and she lost the ability to speak. His eyes were dark, serious, and contemplative. “Do you see me as a replacement for Sam, Lizzie?”

She felt the tears forming in her eyes and cursed herself. Why did she always feel so emotional around him. She shook her head as she spoke, “No.”

“No?”

“I… It… it took me awhile to figure out why I asked you that question, but I did figure it out. All my life, no one cared about me unless they had an obligation to do so. And, I thought that meant you… I’m sorry. I know that was odd. I don't see you that way. It was the only thing that made sense at the time; why a man I barely know was willing to give up his life for mine."

As he took another step, she found herself regarding his lips, the sudden flush she felt was hot. She swallowed and placed her hands on his chest.

"Good. Now that the elephant in the room has been dispatched, we can move on with our evening.”

She nodded, her eyes meeting his, and she saw a glimpse of what she could only describe as relief before his face became neutral once again. The profiling part of her brain kicked in and she could only come up with one answer as to why he would be bothered by her thinking of him as a father figure.

Standing this close to him she noticed a hint of cigar and found herself picturing him in a high backed leather chair smoking and drinking brandy at his meeting that afternoon. The great character of Raymond Reddington, straight from a period novel. When he spoke, his voice was deep and inviting. "I’ll have what you’re having. The Chardonnay is fine.”

Liz tried to move away from him. She really did, but found herself lost in his nearness; the warmth ofhis body seeping through his shirt to her palms. As she glanced down to her hands she realized his vest was unbuttoned and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. She stared at the hair just above her eye level and reached up with one hand, running her forefinger over the soft curls.

“Lizzie.”

She ignored him, moving the tips of her fingers past the fold of his shirt, pressing the pads of her fingers into his warm skin.

“Lizzie, look at me.” His cool fingers cupped her chin, bringing her head up. His eyes were warm, his mouth slightly parted. He was affected by her touch and that made her feel better about herself. She had hold over him too.

“What’s come over you, sweetheart?”

Her hand stilled on his chest as the tears formed in her eyes again. “I need to make sure you're here. I'm not sure this is real.”

The moisture that appeared in his eyes was hardly noticeable and gone with one blink, but she saw it, and it caused her own tears to fall freely down her face.  As he pulled her into a tight embrace, tucking her head under his chin, her arms circled his waist and she held him back. It felt wonderful to be touched by him and she felt safe for the first time since she could remember.  As he smoothed the hair on the back of her head, she closed her eyes and began to knead a small circle on his lower back.

After what seemed like several minutes, Red spoke, “Come on. I want you to eat. You've lost weight and you didn’t have any to lose.”

As he stepped back, she looked up, searching his face before focusing on his lips for the second time. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. She wondered if she would ever find out. He took her hand and pulled her to her chair. As she began to sit, he moved her chair in, then took the napkin off her plate and sat it in her lap. "I hope you like Asian. You do like Asian?"

She nodded. "Yes, it's my favorite, but I imagine you already knew that."

The knowing smirk he gave her said he did. "Have you been to CityZen?"

"No, anything at the Mandarin Oriental is out of my price range."

"Not even for a special occasion?"

She gave him a small smile thinking to herself that his return was a very special occasion. "No, not even for a special occasion."

"Then you're in for a treat. Chef Ziebold is a friend and his work is mastery  There are several dishes here for you to try. I suggest you begin with the Soused Moulard Duck Foie Gras." As he began opening the containers, looking at the contents, he murmured, "Now, where is it?" She watched as his eyes moved, causing his long gold eyelashes to fleck in the light. She had noticed them before, but they wereaffecting her in a total different way now.

When his gaze returned to her, she felt the flush again. She knew he had caught her staring and prayed he wouldn't say anything; to her relief he didn’t and simply handed her a box. “This is Lobster Navarin. It's exquisite - sweet butter poached Maine lobster with Galeux D'Eysines Pumpkin.

She took the proffered item and picked up a spoon to scoop out the dish. The smell was wonderful, and for the first time in days she felt hungry. She hummed after taking the first bite and Red smiled. A genuine wide smile which caused her to feel  surreal joy. She had never seen him smile like that before and it made him all the more human; this part of him should could very easily love.

She mumbled through her second bite, "This is good. It's incredible. Delicious."

She watched as he turned his head and forked what appeared to be a piece of venison. "Now this, Lizzie."

As he placed the fork at her lips, his eyes began to study her. She felt a warmth growing in her abdomen. Months ago she had hated when he looked at her this way. She had thought it inappropriate and crude.  Now, she found herself welcoming that gaze; wanting it even though the power behind it made her afraid. When she opened her mouth, he tipped his hand slightly forward and she took the bite chewing slowly.

She reached for her glass, not noticing it was empty until she had brought it to her lips. Red's mouth twitched and he turned, reaching for the bottle of wine. He poured both of them a glass, then took a sip himself. Now, it was her turn to watch him.  She wondered if he would openly show how distasteful he found her wine. After he swallowed, she saw him read the label then take another sip.

"You think it's terrible."

He turned back to her. "No, it’s not bad. There are flaws, but the crispness and freshness is quite good." His eyes went to her plate before he continued with a tone that was clearly not giving her an option, "Eat."

As Red placed spoonfuls of the different dishes on her plate, he described the intricacies of the ingredients and how they combined to delight one's palate. She found herself in awe of him as he spoke:  his brilliance, his way with words, his charm, even his mannerisms. She had never known a man remotely like him and wondered how many other women had felt the same way. Liz then forced herself to remember how easily he had intimidated her in the past; how easily he had hurt her with what appeared to be no thought to her feelings whatsoever. He was a complex man and she wanted to understand all the bits and pieces, but more than anything, she wanted to know what she was to him.

After a while, when more than full, she grew restless and felt a gnawing need for answers. There were several things she wanted to talk to him about so she began to map out a plan, deciding what questions to ask and when. She moved from the table and began to clean up. "There are enough leftovers for a week."

"Good. Then I don't have to worry about you not eating for a couple of days."

She looked at him, his concern unquestionable. Truth be told, she had lost quite a bit of weight; a fact she hadn't even noticed until a couple of weeks earlier. "Thank you for dinner. The food was wonderful." She gave him a small smile before looking away to finish her thought. "But the company is better." 

How she had missed this man - the only person she had. She just wished she knew if that's what he had planned all along or if it that's just how things had played out.  Liz knew his eyes were intently on her; she could feel the fervency of his gaze. She became uncomfortable again and became absorbed in the task of putting things away. She kept thinking he would say something, but he remained quiet. When she finished placing the dishes in the dishwasher, she washed her hands and enjoyed the sensation of the lukewarm water; she tried to pretend the anxiety she felt was washing away, down the swirling sink.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz is near her breaking point and decides to press Red after their dinner together. Although she believes he won't give her verbal answers, she thinks she knows him well enough to pick up on physical cues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved the Liz that sat across from Red at the dinner table in The Freelancer, S1E2. I’ve tried to recreate her insight and strength from that scene. Go get him, Liz! 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to Selinabln (http://www.selinabln.tumblr.com/) who creates the most wonderful Lizzington gifs and videos, and she also shares insightful Blacklist theories (that I happen to share 95% of the time).

When she turned around, he was standing at her windows again with his back to her.  Although she couldn't know for sure, she felt as though he were giving her a reprieve, a moment to herself.  As she made her way to the couch she thought carefully about choosing to sit in the middle of the sofa; it was  a decision to keep him close once she began to question him.  She listened to Anita Marie sing "Til I Met You" and closed her eyes as she pressed her back into the cushion.  The exhaustion she felt was both physical and emotional.  When she felt the dip in the couch to her left she kept her eyes closed while speaking, "Where were you?"

When he didn't reply, Liz turned to look at him and saw his glance toward the door and the twist of his mouth.  She had only asked one question and he was already clearly annoyed and considering leaving.

She huffed out a breath and his eyes met hers.  Liz felt a twinge of sadness - he wasn't even willing to give her  a vague answer to what she thought a virtually meaningless question.  If this was how the rest of the evening was going to go she was ready to give up, the bravery she felt earlier was gone.  "Never mind.  It doesn't matter."

His mouth pursed, then he answered.  "Manhattan first.  Berlin - Berlin for awhile.  Sydney.  Port-au-Prince.  Boston."

She turned and lowered her head, focusing on the corner of her coffee table.  She had grown accustomed to his quid-pro-quo, so she waited, expecting him to ask her a question; when he didn't, she wasn't sure what to do next then decided  if he wasn't going to ask anything of her, she wanted him to know how guilty she felt about Anslo torturing him.  "I tried to find you.  Actually, I did find the church but I was too late."

"Lizzie, you hold no responsibility for that day or for me."

She turned her head and looked at him.  His voice was mocking and he appeared disinterested, bored even; she could tell his thoughts were elsewhere and wondered if he had come here tonight in order to coddle her - to strategically move her along in whatever game he was playing.  She felt flames of anger at his indifference toward her feelings for him, but the indignation was swiftly replaced with a rush of pain.  She crossed her arms across her body and clutched herself tight but kept her eyes on his face.

Liz watched as he finally refocused on her, analyzing her posture, looking into her eyes; she saw the realization dawn when he came to the conclusion he had hurt her.  "I've upset you."

His voice was deeper, free of scorn, when he said those three words and she concluded what she had long suspected; he purposefully adjusted the tone, volume, and depth of his voice to make people feel what he wanted them to.  Her pain was gone now; she was back to angry.  "You're quite the puppeteer, aren't you, Red?"

"Pardon?"  His lips formed a tight straight line after he spoke.

"You know exactly what I mean.  Why did you come here tonight?"

His condescending tone returned.  "You asked me to dinner."

She scoffed and uncrossed her arms, placing her hands in her lap.  She looked at her scar and squinted her eyes at the ugly raised skin.  If he wanted to play, she could play too.  At the very least, the past four months had taught her that she must face the music on her own. "I'm starting to remember pieces of my childhood.  It started with flashbacks of the fire.”  She took a deep breath before continuing with a near whisper.  “I remember other things too."  She brought her eyes to his face.  "I remember the man who saved me."  

The bobble in his throat was barely detectable but she was becoming trained in the tells of Raymond Reddington.  She watched him and knew he was choosing his next words carefully.  His tone marked with sincerity.  "I came here tonight because you needed me, Lizzie.  You haven't taken proper care of yourself.  You’re a good fifteen pounds underweight.  You appear weary, nearly despondent."

His words surprised her somewhat and she wondered if everyone thought her weak; she stumbled for a few seconds, until she determined that he was attempting to steer her away from the direction she was pursing.  She nodded and decided to go for broke.  She had done a lot of theorizing over the past weeks and she was going to take this opportunity to try and find out how much she had guessed right.  "And there it is, the truth hidden behind your profession of being here for me.  You point out my vulnerability to reinstitute your dominance.  The thing is, there's really no need for that.  I know I'm not as smart as you.  I'm certainly not as strong as you ... or  as experienced.  I don't measure up to you in any way nor would I ever try."  

She carefully watched his expression.  He was most assuredly devoting all of his attention to her now.  "I know I'm a mess right now but I'm a big girl.  As much as I'm like my unstable broken mother, I must have gotten enough of dear old dad to balance things out."

She watched as Red set his jaw.  When she spoke next, her voice sounded as hateful as she felt and she made sure to place emphasis on the pronoun referring to him, "So, who do you think I'm most like? Mommy or daddy? "

As he simply stared at her in response, with alert eyes and a tight mouth, she felt a twinge of control and it was exhilarating.  She was headed in the right direction.  She smiled.  "Definitely dad with undertones of poor dead mother, don't you think?"

Liz studied him for a few seconds before averting her eyes and looking out the window.  She watched the blinking light of an airplane before moving her eyes back to his.  "I'm considering tracking him down.  Him, being my father.  I've already located what I consider to be a solid lead.  I'm pretty sure it would just be a matter of him learning that I want to meet with him and then he would find me.  It's good to know all your options, right Red?  Look out for number one."  

She watched as his gold complexion took on hints of gray.  "Perhaps dad will be willing to share his secrets with me since you won’t share yours.  Who knows, I might even switch career paths and get involved in the family business; make a hell of a lot more than a I do as a GS-12 FBI agent.  Maybe at some point, you'll even add me to your list. Wouldn't that be fun... to hunt and kill the monster you helped create."  

She watched as he raised his hand and placed his arm on the back of the sofa.  He brushed her hair to one side and spoke when his fingers made contact with her skin.  The strain in his voice hit her square in the chest.  "Lizzie.  That’s enough."

She almost caved.  Almost.   "But, do I really need to seek out my father?  After all, Raymond Reddington has my best interest at heart.  Why should I hope for a deeper connection with someone else?  You’ve done nothing to manipulate me or hurt me... or make me feel like I would be better off dead."  The single tear that slid down her cheek held more sorrow than the combination of the thousands she had cried over the last four months.  "I should be happy with the fact that you’re here for me as long as it’s on your terms, right?  As long as you don’t have to give the part of yourself that I really need."  

She watched as he closed his eyes and then she felt his fingers gently press into the muscle of her shoulder.  "Reel me in but throw me back when I get too close.  Oh, but be sure and keep that hook in my gut because you never know when you might need to give it a sharp tug. ”  She felt a second tear slide down her face the moment he looked at her again.  “Love me, but don't love me like that because then you might make a mistake; lose to whoever it is your playing in your precious game.”  

When he uncrossed his legs and began to move closer to her, she was caught off guard but continued regardless.  “Hate yourself for needing me, for wanting me.”

When he brought his hand to her face, and tightened his arm around her back, she found it hard to breathe.  There was anguish in his eyes and she hurt for him.  “There is nothing I would not do for you, Lizzie.  Tell me what you want and I’ll gladly give it to you.  Myself included.”

Her eyes went to his lips and in that moment she thought if he kissed her nothing else would matter. The questions and the pain would just be gone.  She reached out and gripped his loose vest, pulling him a margin closer.  She could smell the cigar again and a hint of his aftershave.  She waited and when he took no action she met his eyes.  "Who am I to you?"

He gave her a pained grin then leaned forward and placed his lips on her forehead.  As he pulled away, he removed his hand from her face, and she dropped her hand from his vest.  "You've made an error in your deduction.  I will continue to lead you to the questions, Lizzie, but you must find the answers yourself."  He sat back further and crossed his legs.  "If you pursue a different path, I can no longer protect you."  

"Because my father is your enemy?"

His reply was abrupt.  "Yes."

"Your plan is to use me against him?"

Red paused and moved his mouth before saying, "My plan is to bring him down."

"By using me.”

"Lizzie."

"Red."

He gave her a slight nod.  "I will do whatever is necessary to keep you from harm."

"Why?"

He stood abruptly. "I shall leave you to come to your own conclusion to that question."

She continued to sit, staring up at him.  Her brain was in a fog and she felt the rigid furrow of her brow. Although his response had not confirmed what she had grown to suspect, his words had shook her, making her believe in the possibility that Raymond Reddington just might be in love with her.  

"You need rest.  If you'll get my things, I'll take leave." It was obvious he was done with her, but she found herself moving slowly to retrieve his hat and coat.  When she returned, he was standing at the door.

After placing his hat on his head, he shrugged into the jacket and gave her a quick smile.

"Promise me you'll eat."

She nodded.

"And take a nap, Lizzie, tomorrow and Sunday."  He brushed a thumb under her eye when he continued.  "I don't want to see those dark circles under your eyes again."

She looked at him in with what she knew must be a dumbfounded expression.  "Okay."

His mouth turned up again and she found the smirk reassuring.  "I'm sorry, Lizzie.  My intent is not to cause you grief. One day, you will understand." He placed his hand on his hat, slightly adjusting the angle.  "I'll see you next week."

As  he placed his hand on the door knob, she took hold of his arm and he turned back to face her with questioning eyes.  She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and stood on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on his soft cheek, just to the right of his mouth.  As she returned flat-footed to the floor, she felt his hand at the small of her back.  His reaction was delayed, she had surprised him.  His eyes met hers, searching.  She spoke softly, "Thank you for coming here tonight.  It meant a lot to me."  She was open to a kiss, wanted one, and tried to convey the invitation with her gaze.  

When his eyes dropped to her lips, she felt the pounding of her heart, he moved a fraction of an inch closer then stopped.  She felt disappointment and moved a hand behind his neck, pulling him close.  She then moved to her tiptoes again, pressing her breasts into his chest.  She placed her lips to the shell of his ear and whispered, "I missed you, Red. So very much."

The hitch in his breath was unmistakable and she felt a moment of triumph before he placed his hands on her hips and pushed her back down. His jaw was set and he looked tense. "Get some rest, Lizzie."

After he closed the door, she felt embarrassed and confused.  Other than Tom, she had never been that forward with a man.  She couldn't imagine what he must think of her.  His first day back in her life and she was practically throwing herself at him.

The quick short knock at her door made her jump. "Lizzie, it's me. Open the door."

She complied and found herself swept into his arms, his mouth on hers hot and heavy.  There was nothing gentle about the kiss and she found herself overcome for a few moments before she felt a ferocity she hadn't known she was capable of feeling.  She began to kiss him back and when his tongue entered her mouth connecting with hers, she couldn't suppress her moan.  The kiss continued until she felt lightheaded.  When she broke away, breathing in a deep lungful of air, he immediately began kissing his way along her jaw, his teeth grazing her earlobe before he tugged at the top of her shirt pulling it back to give him access to the bare skin of her lower neck.  She managed to hold on to him, tightly gripping his leather jacket; as he began to slow, he placed gentle kisses along her neck back up to her mouth.  When his eyes found hers she noticed his large black pupils. When he spoke, his voice was seductive.  "I'm sorry. My control was... lacking."

"S'ok."

He gave her a small smile.  "My dear, what you do to me."  He paused and took hold of her hand then interlocked their fingers.  "You threw me tonight.  Just when I thought I had you properly analyzed and categorized, you switch things up."

"Mhhhm."

He kissed her again; this time slowly with a subdued intensity that left her wanting nothing but more. After he moved away she asked, "Do you want to stay?"

He stared at her for a few seconds before replying.  "You're not ready for that level of intimacy."

"I am."

He shook his head.  "No, sweetheart, you're not."  He took her hand and kissed her scarred wrist. "I'll see you next week."

When the door closed behind him, she leaned against the wall.  He was right; she wasn't ready.  Not yet.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz calls Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the show, some of the best moments between these two take place on the phone so I had to include a call.

Liz and Meera had spent the better part of the week working on locating 81. They were having little luck and Cooper’s irritation was growing.  When the ladies had arrived back from another outing which had proven fruitless, Cooper barked at Liz telling her to contact Reddington.  She had not spoken to Red since their dinner together the previous week and she was disappointed he hadn’t stopped by to see her as promised.  At least Cooper’s order gave her an excuse to contact him.

When she called, Dembe answered but quickly handed the phone off to Red.

“Hello, Lizzie.  How are you?”

“Cooper asked me to call.  We need your help.  We’re chasing our tails with 81.   We’ve confirmed his location twice but he’s gone before we arrive.”

“Again, how are you?”

She breathed out, closed her eyes, and sat down on the hard steel stairwell.  His voice sounded warm and inviting.  She decided to let him know she had been thinking about him.  “Don’t you want to judge that for yourself?  You said you would see me this week.”

She could hear the smile in his response.  “The week’s not over.  It’s only Thursday morning.   I’ve had business in Miami and should arrive back in D.C. before noon.  How about lunch?”

Liz smiled.  He planned on feeding her again.  “Yes.  Where?  I’ll meet you.  It would be nice to get out of here - away from Cooper.  He’s been in a mood.”

“Dembe will be in contact with lunch details.”

“Fine.  And, Red?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ready for more than you think.”  Immediately after saying the words, she looked at her phone and hit the end button.  She then continued to sit on the stairs wondering why she had made such a statement.  There was certainly no forethought in the words and she felt sheepish.  She had considered Red’s comment about her not being ready for sexual intimacy numerous times over the last few days, which had left her feeling both discomfited and annoyed.  Perhaps her unconscious mind and the past five days worth of Raymond Reddington fantasized kisses had served as provocation.

When her phone rang she looked at the caller id and hoped it was Dembe, knowing full well it was Red.  “Hello.”

Red spoke to her in a smooth rich tone, “I prefer that we talk about items of a personal nature when were alone in person so we will delay this conversation until later.”

Liz swallowed and decided it was best to come clean immediately.  “I don’t know why I said that.  I wasn’t even thinking -  the words, they just came out.  Please don’t embarrass me more than I’ve already embarrassed myself.”

There was a long pause and just when she began to wonder if the call had been disconnected, Red said, “I’ve found that unhindered words, spoken in moments of rage, fear, and lust are often the most honest.”

She felt her face grow hot.

His voice dropped lower and he spoke slowly pronouncing each word clearly, “Do you have lustful thoughts, Elizabeth?”

Liz rubbed her forehead.  She couldn’t remember if he had ever called her Elizabeth before and wondered what significance the reference held in this instance.  Although the thought left her feeling anxious Liz replied, “I prefer to discuss this in person as well.”

Another long pause and then, “Agreed. I was sidetracked for a moment; though I would like to know how long you have harbored these feelings.”

She felt the heat growing down her neck.  “I’m at the Post Office.  Someone could be listening.  I…”

“Your phone is secure.  For how long, Lizzie?”

Liz looked around the room.  There was no one in sight and even if there was someone she couldn’t see they wouldn’t be within ear shot.  “Is this a game to you?  Because it’s not to me and I...”

“I’ve wanted you since before you met me but not necessarily in a carnal way.  However, the evening you appeared on Frederick Hemstead’s doorstep, with tear stained cheeks and a broken heart, I began to think there might actually be a possibility.”  She heard a slight dip in his voice as he continued, “Why?  Because you came to me despite not understanding why you were there.”

She swallowed and pressed a thumb into her temple.  Her in-depth self-analysis over the past number of weeks made finding the answer to his question quite easy.  “When you sat on that swing it shocked me.  I think that’s when I stopped being  terrified of you.”  She hesitated momentarily then said, “And after Garrick’s attack, my perception changed.”

“Then Anslo Garrick served a far greater purpose than I could have ever imagined.”  His long breath was audible and then he said, “Lizzie,” in that erotic way of his that made her pulse quicken and her throat constrict.

She licked her bottom lip and closed her eyes before feelings of self-doubt and trepidation seeped in. “Do you have this effect on all women?”

Red chuckled. “I even have this effect on most men.”

Liz didn’t laugh; she failed to see the humor.  She was certain Red could seduce anyone if he set his mind to the task, and though she believed his feelings for her were real; she wondered if they were strong enough to keep him from walking away.  She feared he would grow bored of her and seek gratification elsewhere - something she knew she couldn’t accept and wouldn’t stand for.  She was also afraid he would leave her once his plan was complete.  If Red could leave his wife and child, what would keep him from leaving her?

She tried to mask the emotion from her voice, but knew she failed. “I have to go.”

“Lizzie.”

“I’ll see you at lunch.”  She ended the call before he had an opportunity to respond, stood, and began making her way to her office.  She pushed aside her feelings of inadequacy and focused instead on the thought of being near him again.  As she sat down at her desk, she felt the upward tug of her lips.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Lizzie have lunch.

When she walked into the The Prime Rib, she immediately spotted Dembe at the bar drinking a beer and eating oysters on the half shell.  As she walked toward him, he saw her and gestured with the hand holding the now empty shell.  “Agent Keen, it’s good to see you.”  Liz looked at him bemused and Dembe gave her an ever subtle grin. “You make him jovial and that pleases me.  He’s past the piano, in the small alcove to your left.  The private room was not available so he obtained the next best table.  Enjoy lunch.”  He then returned to his oysters and Liz walked off shaking her head slightly.  Red and his people would never cease to confound her.

As she stepped around the wall, which jutted out from the main dining room, she had to follow a slight curve before finding Red.  He sat facing her direction with his head down reading a book.  He was wearing one of her favorite suits, the one her limited fashion sense had deemed “the gray one with the grayish-silver tie”.  She stood back for a moment and watched him, appreciating the figure he presented.  As she stepped forward and reached for the back of her chair, he noticed her and rose quickly.  Before she could move to sit, he was at her side placing a cool kiss to her temple, one arm circling her back and pulling her close.  Without thought, she leaned into his side, and felt the brim of tears in her eyes - not understanding what she was feeling or where the emotion came from.

He stepped back a few seconds later, moving his hands to her shoulders and turned her to face him.  He looked at her intently, a worry line creasing his brow.  “I want to apologize for earlier.”

Liz was confused then felt an odd ease; her puzzlement had distracted her for a moment and her tears disappeared before they could fall.  “For what?”

“I’m afraid my joke missed it’s mark.  At times, my sense of humor is insensitive, cutting.”

“I don’t understand what you’re… Oh.”  Liz slowly exhaled.  “My insecurities were bred long before you came into my life.”

“Perhaps, but it was cruel.  When you are a loyal partner and learn your trust has been betrayed, it’s painful.”

She knew Red was referencing Tom’s affair and thought of the image she had placed on the evidence wall at the black site.  Two weeks after Red had left, she had stumbled across the photograph of Tom and Gina embracing.  The undeniable proof had marked the end of her marriage.

His thumb left a short trail on her left shoulder before he said, “At the time, I didn’t realize your question was serious.”

She shrugged her shoulders, feeling like a naive girl new to love.  “It’s okay. It’s ridiculous really.  I should have no expectations for…”  She waved her hand back and forth in the small distance between them, “Whatever this is.”

As his eyes searched hers, she felt anxious.  

Red moved slightly closer, tipped his head forward and further down, then gently squeezed her shoulders.  His eyes stilled and his voice was quiet, “Lizzie.  When I’m in a relationship, I’m monogamous - have no doubt about what I want with you.”

The tears were back in her eyes and she spoke softly, “I want that too.”  She managed a small smile which he reciprocated in an instant.

As he leaned in and placed his lips on hers, in a gentle chaste kiss, she hummed then felt his grin in response.  After pulling away, he trailed a finger along her jaw.  “That’s my girl.  Now, let’s get you some food.”

After sitting for a moment and taking a drink of her water, their waiter appeared with a bottle of champagne on ice.  As the young man uncorked the bottle, she read the label, Louis Roedere Cristal.  Her eyes went to Red’s face as he sampled the beverage.  She didn’t even want to think about the cost, knowing it was hundreds of dollars.  

After Red took a second swallow, he spoke, “Wonderful, Danny.  Please do pour some for the lady and then we’ll start with the Cold Seafood Tower.”  Red directed his gaze at Liz and asked, “They have  Petrossian Caviar, would you like some?”

Liz simply shook her head in response and turned to the waiter. “If I remember correctly, you have a wonderful soup - Roasted Tomato?”  

The young man nodded at her in response.  “Yes, miss, it’s quite popular.”

“I would like a bowl, please.”  He nodded again and gave her a beaming smile before walking away.

When she met Red’s gaze he grinned then spoke, “Try the champagne.”

“Red, I have to go back to work.  I can’t drink.”

“You have the afternoon off.  I spoke to Cooper.”

Liz frowned.  “And you told him what?”

The light in his eyes danced before he answered.  “That I needed you.”  

Neither the timbre of his voice nor the the subcontext of his statement went unnoticed by her.  “Red.”

“I explained we would be working together on 81 and that Cooper should have a team ready first thing tomorrow - planning on an arrest by 10:00 a.m.”  

As he spoke, the thought of a leisurely lunch and not having to return to work made her happier than it probably should have.  She smirked at him and said, “We better talk about 81.”

“It’s taken care of.  Dembe tracked down an associate and I have the address to 81’s safe house.  He won’t be leaving anytime soon.  He’s actually a night owl and doesn’t go to bed until around 5:00 in the morning which puts him in a deep slumber for the FBI’s arrival.”  He raised his glass, holding it out, waiting for her to return the gesture.  “A toast - to a long lunch and a most enjoyable evening.”

Liz felt the heat on her cheeks.  He had flirted with her before but it was different now that she knew what it felt like to be kissed by him.  He leaned forward, nearly whispering, “Elizabeth, has anyone ever told you what you look like when you blush?”

She clinked her glass against his and took a sip.  The bubbles tickled her throat when she swallowed.  She was a bit miffed with his question.  “Do you plan on calling me Elizabeth when we’re in a more intimate setting?  Is that what you’re doing now, training me to hear my full forename?”

Red gave himself away when he sat back in his chair, his eyes beginning their study of her again.  She grinned before asking, “And what do you prefer I call you?”  When she saw his adam’s apple move in his throat, her smirk grew to a smile.  “I considered Raymond but I’m not sure that feels right on my tongue.  You are Red to me.  Perhaps we should just wait and see what I’m inspired to say.”

The cheshire grin that spread across his lips had her transfixed.  His gaze was beguiling.  She waited for him to speak but he didn’t; he simply held her eyes, blinking occasionally.

When the waiter appeared with the appetizer and tomato soup, Red broke eye contact. “Danny, we’ll both have the prime rib.  Medium rare for me and the lady would like her’s…”

Liz felt a point of irritation at him ordering for her but decided not to protest.  She turned to the waiter before asking, “Medium is slight pink?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Medium.”

As Danny walked away she shook her head.  “I was going to order a salad.”

The look on his face matched his tone, he was serious.  “I assumed as much.  That’s why I ordered you the beef.  You’re too thin, Lizzie.”

She wrinkled her nose at him in jest then began to wonder if he found her appearance displeasing.  Her subtle curves were even less noticeable after her weight loss.  She looked down and studied her bowl of soup before sighing.  She had not intended to lose weight but the weeks of long hours at work, separation from Tom, and Red’s disappearance had left her with little to no appetite.  As she reached for her spoon, Red’s hand covered her own.

When she looked up at him, he squeezed her hand.  “You have to stay physically strong.  Your life could very well depend upon it.  Cooper should have addressed this with you.  I have the presence of mind to take him to task.”

“He did.”

The look of surprise on Red’s face was subtle.  She turned her hand over so that her palm was flat against his before responding.  “I assumed you knew.”

His intense stare said he didn’t and she sighed again.  “I was suspended to desk duty for nearly two months; not because of the weight loss.  I don’t think Cooper noticed that until a couple of weeks ago, which was right after I did.  He’s actually been good to me; he certainly showed more patience than Ressler.”

He slowly withdrew his hand, drawing his fingers across her palm.  “Eat your soup.”

They sat in near silence for awhile; she ate the heavenly roasted tomato bisque while Red put on a display of eating the oysters.  She could tell he was deep in thought and assumed he was trying to determine why Cooper had kept her from the field and why he hadn’t been made aware of the situation.  For weeks, she had wondered who Red’s FBI source was - positive he had one - and had even focused on trying to learn the person’s identity so she could track Red down.  Her strongest suspicion had been Meera but now she knew that wasn’t correct as both the CIA operative and Ressler had been aware of Liz’s desk confinement.  Her thoughts went to Aram and the slots lined up; he had given her the copy of Anslo’s attack telling her to watch the video.  

She waited until Red downed the last oyster and met her eyes before she spoke.  “Aram is your contact.”

The look he gave her was priceless and Liz had to literally bite her tongue to suppress a giggle.  She wondered if Red’s reaction was due to the fact that she had guessed he had a contact or that she had correctly picked Aram.  “Don’t be upset with him.  There’s no way he could have known.  Cooper didn’t make it a formal reprimand and HR wasn’t notified.  Like I said, Cooper has been good to me.”

He took a long drawal of the champagne before asking, “Why did Cooper place you on desk duty?”

Liz shrugged her shoulders and placed her hands in her lap.  She found her scar with the thumb on her opposite hand and focused on the top button of Red’s vest.  She wasn’t ashamed but did fear what Red would think of her if she told him the complete truth.  Despite believing in honesty she wasn’t ready to give him that much of herself.  

“Lizzie.”  His tone was gentle and even sounded a bit hesitant.  

She forced herself to meet his eyes.  “That’s between Cooper and me.  I’ll just say that he picked up on the fact that I wasn’t sleeping.  After Tom… before I moved out, it was… very difficult.  I was afraid for awhile but there was no evidence so I couldn’t formally ask the FBI for help.”

The stillness that overcame Red was frightening.  A fire storm was stirring behind his eyes and she had to look away.  This was the part of him that she could not reconcile.  After a few seconds he spoke, an accusatory edge to his voice, “And you had no means to contact me.”

Liz felt her eyelids slowly close, the darkness surrounding her.  The seconds beat on and she recognized the change in her pulse and breathing.  She forced her eyes open, looked him in the eye, and asked, “Who it that you’re angry with?  Me?”

When he pushed his chair back and walked to her side she didn’t take her eyes off him.  She wasn’t about to back down.  If she wanted to be with him, she could no longer let him intimidate her.  He outstretched his open hand to her and she hesitated only briefly before placing her hand in his.  He pulled her up into his arms.  His green eyes were intense but the hatred she saw seconds ago was gone.  “I haven’t felt joy for twenty years, Lizzie.  Yes, there have been fleeting moments of happiness and overall I have been content, but you give me a gift that I do not deserve.  The rage was directed at myself.  I made a promise to be there whenever you needed me and I failed.”  He pulled her tight against him and Liz circled his waist with her arms.  “Never again, Lizzie.  Never again.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> * Lizzington Blog: RedandLizzie.tumblr.com  
> * Lizzington Fanfic Rec Blog: RedXLizzie.tumblr.com  
> 


End file.
